reminder for the rough days.

Being a parent is really, really hard.

This hasn't come as a surprise to me. The hubster and I jumped into the family way excitedly, but soberly. We read a few books, turned our ears to good advice, prayed, and scoured the Bible with fresh eyes, honing in on verses that spoke specifically to the task that lay ahead of us.

No matter. Almost every day, I think to myself: Wow, this gig is hard.

Being at home with them all day can feel like a pressure cooker. I find myself having conversations with the dog; trying not to argue about whether a Popsicle is an acceptable option for lunch; scavenging for the 18th pair of underwear in 6 hours because sometimes, finishing an episode of Curious George is more important than responding to bodily clues. Stay-at-home moms can find dozens of reasons to feel sorry for themselves.

But really, most of us can find dozens of reasons why our current situation is stinky. Over at Conversion Diary, Jennifer wrote a great post called "Why my life is better since becoming open to life," and in it, there's an insightful section: "When you see something as temporary, you don't optimize." I had to read and re-read the paragraph. It hit me right between the eyes... On my most self-pitying days, I escape into promises that the pressure-cooker phase is only temporary. "Someday they'll all poop on the toilet voluntarily and they'll clean their own rooms and everything will be fabulous!" And off to la-la land I go.

On a sadder note, though, if I'm sitting in la-la land, I'm not in the moment with my kids. Good or bad, I have to be there. We all know that, don't we? My heart stops when I see the occasional, chilling headline detailing child abuse cases. Why?, I ask myself. How? When you stand between the pressure cooker and la-la land, a breeze of clarity will wash over you and it's there in beautiful detail: They're not mess-makers, stressors, mini noise machines sputtering from room to room. They're magnificent- breath-taking- they make life worth every sweet and sour second.

Because of that, they are worth every iota of God-given grace I can eek out. I will fail some days... probably many. But I'll go down in flames of effort. I'll say I'm sorry. I'll hug them and show them God as best I can and maybe, just maybe, they'll rise up out of my flames of imperfection as phoenixes- proof that His grace was there all along.